Ella Goodman

I say: 
                Let’s move to Oregon. The rocks are big and the trees are tall.
Though I just mean: 
                              (happy anniversary).  

So you say: 
              We’ll have to scrape the moss off the rocks to climb them
(I know that you will do it). 

 I remember:
                roller skates, chalk-bags, growing pains
When we thought: 
                             (It can’t go that far). 

Now I have: 
               three gray hairs, battered honda, fake ID
(I am a very tall child),                but
Here’s the reason: 
                              My whole life is a junk drawer. 

Your hands make lithographic fossils in the flat-stone of my mind;
Ink &                   oil & water &
I think:
(Loving is not the same as understanding).